Timeless
by Bleach-ed-Na-tsu
Summary: There was just something about the Decimo generation that had the Mafia on edge, something timeless about their eyes. However, Mafia men whose lives were set out for them from their start forget that Tsuna and his Guardians fought long and hard for their right to decide the Mafia's fate.


**So Hellooo my loveliesss! I am sorry that this is just a one-shot, and not one of my regular updates. But from tomorrow until May 17th I will not be updating or writing ANYTHING. My university was on strike for the past month, and as such I have a month of cramming and assignments to get done in the space of 2 weeks, and then exams, plus family issues, and more exams.  
So PLEASE be patient with this authoress, and believe me when I say that I CANNOT wait to be able to take the time to write and post some of my ongoing fics. **

**Now I don't really like how this turned out, especially towards the end, but I hope you enjoy it regardless, and thank you 3**

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TIMELESS

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**Summary: **There was just something about the Decimo generation that had the Mafia on edge, something timeless about their eyes. However, Mafia men whose lives were set out for them from their start forget that Tsuna and his Guardians fought long and hard for their right to decide the Mafia's fate.

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"They're here."

And like gods hailed by disbelieving followers, they did.

IN a mass of smiles and power, the group of eight arrived in the room.

"I am sorry that we are late," The leader, brown hair and eyes glowing like St. Elmo's fire, spoke with soft tones and an assured conviction. "There was an issue I had to fix, but please don't stop on our account."

And the host of the party walked up with big smiles and bright blonde hair. They laughed together, seemingly ignorant to the stares and whispers about them all around. They were aware though, both the brown haired boss and the host. There were few places left in the world, of darkness or light, that didn't whisper about the Decimo after all.

"I heard the rumours…."

"I didn't think…"

"How is this possible?"

"Does that mean they're really aiming to destroy the mafia?"

"How could they look so like the first?"

The words were whispered like prayers, and hidden like curses. It made Tsuna proud of their accomplishments, proud that he was strong enough to force the Mafia down and to make sure his family was safe by making the Mafia clean. But he feared the day that some bigger fish would see him as a means to an end.

After all, what better way to break the mafia's tentative balance, one that Tsuna was keeping with practiced hands that held fire and kindness, than to kill Tsuna.

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It wasn't just their looks that had the Decimo and his guardians hailed as the reincarnation of the Primo generation; the second coming, the mafia's rapture. They had many names by the time they took their seat on the throne of mafia blood. But it wasn't just because of their looks.

No, looks are both fickle and suspicious to mafia Men and Women. Plastic surgery, mutation, cloning, and even designer babies made by the massed had looks both hold the _highest_ importance in mafia culture, but also to be wary.

No one could be sure, after all, that the Vongola didn't just breed the Tenth Generation to look like their ancient ancestry. It wasn't all that uncommon.

No, their looks and walk. The way they reigned and roared. That wasn't the only reason the Mafia felt obliged to bow to this boy and his family.

There was also this timelessness to these young men and woman.

There was this age in their eyes that burned all those who tried to meet them as equals. It sat there, glowing like dying will flames, in their irises for all to see. However, none were able to meet their gaze for long. None could ask for anything they did not need, and even the most desperate for Vongola approval and protection could not ask once they felt these ancient eyes upon them.

Whispers exploded through the mafia as the 'Tainted Saint' and his family tore famiglia after famiglia from the darkness and forcibly bleached them from the light.

They were the second coming after all, and they were _angry._ Demonic possession of the Firsts' law, Tsunayoshi and his brood took no prisoners. Like Demons and Gods of the end of days, they did not stop.

Yet still their boss stooped on bent knee to pull child and innocent from the filth and lift them to a safe haven.

They were feared as much as they were respected, and the Mafia didn't' see the broken wings of children who grew too quickly for their feathers. Instead they scattered when the Vongola were in town and cleaned house daily to keep out of Vongola hands.

When Tsunayoshi appeared in a room it was suddenly full of this warmth and if you were welcomed there it was like coming home after leaving for a lifetime. It was this that made the mafia forget the youth in these men and women. They forgot that these children were _not_ the First generation, and as such were not 400 years wise.

If the Mafia cared at all to look closer, as those allied and honour bound to the Decimo were, they'd see the timelessness was more than that.

Timelessness was not given to anyone, especially not ancient gods. But at twenty four no man should bear the voice and tone of a man who commanded the army of nations; yet Hayato did. No man, no guardian, and certainly no child should ever bare a storm in their soul and hide behind explosions to protect themselves from the ignorant who cast them aside. Hayato is timeless because he has seen the mafia tear babes apart in favour of making machines. The Vongola storm is timeless because he has experienced the worst and had grown bigger and better than any other with the sole purpose of protecting and lifting everything but himself. A storm is timeless, because once you settle in the eyes time stops, and wars rage around while you are untouched; Hayato is timeless because he can control a fury that would massacre all others.

Children are cruel, and thought they grow to forget their past transgressions, the ones they wronged never will. Be it the scars that bullies left, or the terror felt every night when you replay the potential death he caused Tsuna the day he was saved, Takeshi's mind aged a decade in a day. Suddenly things are in crisp clarity. Suddenly baseball is a babe's game, and suddenly breathing is for the saints. Because when not only your life, but the life of the one who saved you lies on the ability of a fourteen year old to learn an ancient word and kill and assassin, you grow quickly. Takeshi is timeless because his smile is cut sharp and his mind chiseled in marble. To learn and kill quickly, the mind must never forget the movements of a sword in the palm, and the blade through the flesh.

Ancient wisdom pours from the bones of the young lady in their midst. To the mafia men around her, Chrome's sexuality is divine and the way she glides beside her boss and brothers' strength. She bares scares, the only tapestries of long since destroyed families, and her womb bares the children of the family that will never be born. Mother, and ancient power, Chrome is timeless because she holds this handsome strength that is coveted by lewd Mafia Men until they are crushed beneath her heel. Chrome is ancient because she is not afraid to use her strength for the good of herself and her family; she isn't ashamed of the strength she had cultivated. Chrome is timeless because she knows she is a goddess and has fought her way back against friend and foe for her position.

Strength of body is something that cannot be ignored. After all, when ones muscles are sculpted and a brow is stern no one can deny meticulous care and preparation. However, there is an even stronger sense of self that should never be overlooked, and in the sun of Decimo it is. Ryohei plays a fool too well, and often is cast aside and ignored. His voice booms out in an echo, as if it were a whisper in a tomb. He cannot be ignored as he blasts his way into room and conversation, forcing those who try to face him to turn away in shame. The mafia are not kind, and they tear apart anyone they think miss their standard, and the fool that plays them like games does not escape their words. Except Ryohei holds his head high with eyes of a forgotten god burning back at the tongues of the ignorant. He may play the fool better than anyone, and he may be forgotten in the vicious torrent of the guardians that play the lead; but Ryohei is just as timeless as they are. He is the ancient power lying in wait, the minor-god that people forget once had the power to level the same mountains he created. And he will level those mountains when backs are turned and his strength is needed. Until then, his strength lies in the self-assurance he has built for himself that his dearest ones rely on.

When someone does all in their power to be the strongest and to take a law unenforced into their own hands not even those who break the law can be ignorant. To be feared by an entire town as a tyrant and protector before you can graduate from high school is a feat that cannot be ignored. Kyouya knows this, probably better than anyone else. There is timelessness in a young man of twenty six who can walk into a room, assured that he _is _the strongest and that he will beat everyone. There is a strength in a man who fears nothing but the restriction of his power. Kyouya feels to the Mafia around him as if he has lived a thousand lives to be so confident. Kyouya is timeless because the men and women of the Mafia don't want to admit that they're inadequate, that they have to do more than the minimum to reach that level. They're _children_ compared to the mafia after all. Made Mafia famiglia would rather put distance between this monster that is Kyouya, hail him as some unattainable force of super-nature, than accept that they are just _unworthy _of even the gaze from the Decimo's cloud.

Everyone knows that Mukuro's eyes hold his power. It is obvious in the blood that pours from the Estraneo's taint when he uses his flames; and in the minds that crumble under his laughter. The Mafia knows the rumours around this man, the tales of him living a thousand lives and ruling a hundred worlds. There are rumours that he made a contract with the devil as a child, and that he stalks the world looking for his next meal. Then there are rumours that he is the devil that Tsunayoshi sold his soul to. What is inarguable is that Mukuro is timeless in a much more literal sense than any guardian before him; he has seen times fall away while his mind fell into insanity and was born again for seven lifetimes. Mukuro is timeless because he has seen seven lifetimes worth of taint and murder, and is fully capable of using those skills as if he himself lived them, yet he is still able and willing to protect and covet the Mafia's angel and problem child like a gargoyle protecting the church.

It is harder to see it in the young boy that walks between the guardians. Lambo is only fifteen himself, older than the rest of his famiglia was when they first took up their mantle. But it is there too, carved into the lines of his growing body that was concealed in the shadow of a pack who would not let anyone see him while he grew alongside them. There is an ancient strength of a child who grew up jumping timelines and seeing pasts and futures never to be seen again; he is timeless for time is relative to one who controls the outcome of altered realities and universes. A child who grew up keeping tabs on future and past will never be confused and turned around by the mild talks of this family or that. Those who underestimate the child amongst the wolves will be faced with eyes that reflect the cosmos, and when faced with the power of the universe all are cowed. Yet still, even as timeless as a child with galaxies mirrored in the curls of his hair, there is one other more ancient than him. One who is more timeless than the universe. One who the boy with galaxies in his eyes will press against for assurance and in trust.

And that was Decimo. Timelessness is forged in this one as a child that time forgot. An entire section of life that was spent fighting for the right to exist amongst the cruelties of children is often forgotten in favour of the heroics and stories written in bias histories. Timelessness was branded into the eyes of twenty-four year old Tsunayoshi, who fought three wars before he was fifteen. Eyes that glow near-constant gold, bright and burning; with judgement, forgiveness, and strength. The weight of an entire multiverse, but mostly of those closest to him hinged on him being or not being able to fight off megalomaniac after megalomaniac. Tsunayoshi is timeless because he became the only god able to overthrow a thousand universes, ancient feuds, Vindice, and creatures from beyond time and space. Tsunayoshi it timeless because even after chugging training like freshwater and devouring battles to gain godstrength he is the only one who would never use it. Tsunayoshi is the only one with godstrength who wouldn't use it to subdue the universes that go against him.


End file.
